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Phoning Home - Day One Afternoon
“Your drug and supplies order is approved,” the pharmacist glanced over the rims of his spectacles. “Regarding the tetrahalcynate, I’ll need to see your medical ident.” “Of course,” Adler nodded, offering his card. As it scanned, the pharmacist’s eyebrows raised. “VCM,” his voice resonated appreciation. “Field medicine?” “A startup program,” Dorian said, “involving a better grade of training fah medics on tha rim. Ah’m a co-admin,” he chuckled, “and guinea pig numbah one.” The pharmacist nodded. “Your credentials are high order,” he said as the card found it’s way home. “You’re familiar with tetrahalcynate? More important, its’ long term effects?” “Yes.” No need to discuss its’ use, his patient, or the fact that he’d allow her to continue using as long as she saw fit to do so. “Thirty milligram tablets, ninety count,” the pharmacist read aloud. “Dr. Adler, this will take me an hour or so to complete. You’ve got a sizeable order with us. When I’m finished, I could have a runner deliver the whole consignment to your vessel?” He checked his watch. Marisol was due in the next few minutes. Understanding her eagerness to commence repairs, the medic relented. “That’s acceptable,” he smiled. “Kindly deliver to Hangar G-3. The boat’s named Lunar Veil. Attention Lt. Riley Thorne,” he repeated. “Thank yah.” “Our pleasure,” the pharmacist winked. “And happy Unification Day.” “Enjoy yah holiday,” he managed the barest social necessity before escaping into the street. The curbside vendors were all over him, ants on a carcass, inside of ten seconds. Candy, special drinks, getcher alliance tattoo, chicken on a stick. A whore smiled and opened her robe. “Care to conquer my Serenity valley?” “Ah think yah’ll see plenty of purple helmets,” he quipped, turning to escape…until the oddest array of metal caught his eye. A shabby, hand painted sign proclaimed Ruth Anne’s Most Unlikely Treasures. As he moved closer, Dorian soon came to agree with her claim. Tiny bits of the most commonplace metal and scrap were bodged and twisted together into baubles and jewelry that delighted the eye. In minutes, he’d found a startling Firefly replica for Haddie, a beautiful tropical bird broach for Maria, and a unique prayer wheel pendant for Sister Lyen, The prize of his day, however, was a dramatic little pin. He couldn’t be certain just how Riley might accept such an offering, but the finely crafted eye at its’ center was simply too engaging to pass up. Dorian was handing over his coin as the mule coughed into the street behind him. “You ready, Doc?” Marisol shouted above the engine. A moment later, they were crawling through the overrun streets toward the boat. “This is ludicrous,” Adler ventured. His companion seemed lost to her thoughts; even the celebration’s gaudy insult toward her heritage wasn’t scoring marks now. “Evahthing alright?” “I called home.” “That wasn’t safe.” “Used my burner,” she dismissed his concerns. “Well, then,” he shrugged as she maneuvered around an oblivious band of lost celebrants, “how’s tha family?” “Kids are good,” she said over her shoulder. “Annalisa is ‘blossoming,’ and Paco’s already worried she’s turning heads. Luis is…Luis,” she chuckled. “And Maria?” “She’s decided that you would want to marry an educated woman,” Marisol smiled. “She’s devouring every book in Kidjo’s library, and she’s been accepted to the university on Osiris.” “Osiris?” he exclaimed. “That’s a top tier school. Good call on her part.” The mule was stopped in a snarl of traffic. “Glad you approve,” Marisol faced him with a smirk. “She’s paying with your money.” Despite himself, Adler threw back his head and laughed. “So much fah mah retirement. And what about mah ward?” Her features took the cast of worry. “Abby and Maria are still thick as thieves,” she began, “but Paco’s worried about her. The girl is obsessively clean. She works hard…harder than any of our kids,” Marisol added. “Paco can’t get her to slow down.” “Ah conjure there’s more.” “There is. When she’s not spit shining the house or the restaurant,” Marisol said, “she’s out back, with the guns…practicing. Paco says she spends all her restaurant pay on ammunition. Hours, out there in the sun…drawing…firing…it worries me,” she said, “because I watched someone else do the same thing once.” “Response tah trauma,” Dorian offered, choosing to ignore the barbed observation. “Not so unusual, considerin’ what she suffered.” Marisol shook her head. “But that can’t make her happy, can it?” “Ah don’t think happiness is on Miss Abbigail’s mind,” he said as the road ahead cleared. “She’s tryin’ tah build her power.” “Over what?” “You know. That man…who cut her. He’s inside her head, evah night, takin’ slice aftah slice. Him, an’ evah othah man who victimized her in tha name of tha trade.” “Sometimes,” Marisol sighed, “I think war is easier.” She goosed the throttle, sending the mule forward in a sputtering roar as they picked up speed for the boat.